


To Fall Down At Your Door

by coffeelacedwords



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Nakamaship, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeelacedwords/pseuds/coffeelacedwords
Summary: Where Zoro spends two years not really as far from his crew as he thinks.





	

The ground tilts upwards until it's suddenly flat against his back, his bones rattling at the impact. Zoro grunts at the pain, his body protesting every breath, and throws a weary arm over his eyes, gulping air in through his mouth. The _clink_ of a sword being sheathed echoes loudly despite the ringing in his ears.

Perona's laugh is just as disembodied as those damn ghosts she uses, circling far above him. She calls out, "Just give up already, you'll never win, idiot!"

The humandrills are cheering, their hands clapping and their feet stomping in victory. All noise falters at the sudden quiet crunch of boots on stone. Footsteps draw closer and closer until they stop inches from his head. Zoro is so used to that dark energy now that he doesn't even flinch.

"Good." The word hangs in the misty air, silken and dangerously close to approval. At least, as much approval as Zoro expects from Dracule Mihawk. He adds, "For the first time."

Confused, Perona shouts loudly as if they couldn't hear her, "What are you talking a-"

A gushing sound interrupts her, followed by a shriek. Finally the wounds Zoro landed split open and the baboon that fights like Mihawk crumbles to the ground so hard it shakes the earth beneath him.

"So," Zoro gasps, lifting his arm away to stare up at the man he's going to one day dethrone. "What's next?"

Dark clouds halo Mihawk and Zoro feels the tug of the past, sees that rickety boat swaying next to the scraps of Don Krieg's ship. He can't hold back the stupid grin on his face, beaming up at the greatest swordsman in the world who is looking back at him like there's finally something there.

The distance between them is starting to shrink.

\---

Zoro never questions how food ends up in his room. Whenever he's done training and needs a few hours rest, he always wakes up to food fresh and waiting for him. After all, it's a big castle and while he hasn't seen anyone beside Mihawk living here, that doesn't mean it's unlikely. For all he knows it could be Perona who hovers whenever she's feeling generous.

The food is good though, usually hearty and decent for training.

It's when Zoro wakes up one night, especially restless and with rain pounding on the window, that he wanders until he finds himself in a dreary kitchen smelling of miso. The last thing he expects to see is Hawk-Eyes Mihawk standing over a stove, cooking.

"Oh," he says, stopping at the sight, unsure if he should stay. They are still enemies, Zoro is not stupid enough to think otherwise. Except for how Mihawk lingers on the outskirts of Zoro's training, they don't cross paths much. Zoro shifts to leave but the rumble of his stomach, so loud that Luffy would be proud of him, says otherwise.

"Roronoa," Mihawk says, more in recognition than as a greeting.

Warily, Zoro steps across the cold stone floor and stops just out of range on instinct. It's such an unsettling image, the dangerous and legendary Warlord with his shirt untucked and his feet bare. Come to think of it, Zoro has never seen Mihawk consume anything besides wine. He shakes away the fearful, shaking voice of Usopp at the back of his mind, stuttering about blood sucking monsters.

Zoro takes the offered bowl without question, enjoying the warmth against his fingers and happy to have something to keep him from staring. He never thought with Kuma towering over him, asking Zoro a question he didn't fully understand, that his last thought would be to have one last duel, one last chance to prove himself and that he'd end up at Mihawk's doorstep.

He takes a sip and before he can catch the thought, he says, "It's good."

He bites back the embarrassment but amusement crosses Mihawk's face as he serves himself a bowl.

"You didn't think your food mysteriously made itself," he says, accusing. He watches Zoro with those unblinking eyes.

He shrugs, all graceless energy, and takes another big gulp so he doesn't say anything else. It's not as good as he's had but the warmth settles in his belly, reaching out to his sore muscles. They stand in silence, sipping soup, and it reminds him so much of that shitty cook and the Thousand Sunny, brimming with laughter and excitement. He rubs at the ache in his chest and dismisses it as too many blows from that baboon, deciding he's not pushing himself enough.

"Thanks for the food," he says, his words quiet as he sets the empty bowl down. Mihawk doesn't say anything as Zoro slides out the door. Later as he's lifting a heavy stone from the ruins, he swears he can hear his crew clearly like he never left the Sunny.

\---

"I don't need to be babied," Zoro growls and crosses his arms in a way that he hopes seems tougher than it feels.

"And I don't intend to," Mihawk admits, wiping down the bloody mess at his shoulder. Zoro sullenly notices Mihawk doesn't have a scratch on him. He pulls out a small velvet case holding a needle and thread, kneeling in the rubble of the ruins next to Zoro. "This will hurt."

He clenches his teeth at the rough handling, so used to Chopper's gentle hand. The prick of skin is nothing compared to the pain he's endured but it's damn uncomfortable. He tries not to fidget because the greatest swordsman in the world doesn't squirm at a little pain.

Mihawk's fingers are callused and colder against his skin than he expects. As they sit in silence, Mihawk's legs pressing against his, Zoro can't shake the eeriness of it. He's used to silence, comforted by it in times of meditation or the way his mind clears during training.

This quiet is different. Zoro wants to say it's because they are both men of solitude, two enemies not used to unnecessary small talk. The truth is that this is too much like the quiet before Luffy found him, even before Johnny and Yosaku. This is the somber nothingness of losing Kuina, of not having a ship full of crewmates, of being alone.

A sharp tug at his shoulder brings him back, pain always grounding him, and he forgets to hold back the small hiss, hand reaching as if to take care of it himself. He can feel eyes on him even though Mihawk is focused on weaving tight, even stitches.

"The next time I aim to hit you," Mihawk instructs, knotting off the thread, "Move."

He stands up, offering his hand to Zoro. Brushing the hand aside, Zoro stands and centers himself, ready for the next round. He snaps, "I did."

The quiet, mocking, "Then move faster," has Zoro taking position again. He bites down on Wadou and is grateful to concentrate on something he can change and work toward instead of lingering on where the rest of his crew is and how he's not there to protect them.

\---

"I'll never get off this island," Perona laments, sending another ghost at him.

"Quit whining," he says around steel, dodging it easily. "And if you're not going to help, leave me the hell alone."

"You don't know what it's like," she says, posing dramatically in midair, "being stuck with two brutish, boring guys that won't offer me anything to eat or drink! This is no way for someone as cute as me to live."

She's not even trying to fight him. He chalks it up to Perona and her strange way of simultaneously taking caring of him and complaining about it. Before he can stop the thought, he's thinking fondly about scary women and their special brand of tough love.

He almost stumbles right into a vacant, bobbing ghost.

"I'm going back to the shore," he says abruptly, unable to focus. He turns around and swallows down the guilt that maybe this will be the time he should have been there. He shakes out of his thoughts to growl at Perona to shut up when she shouts that he's going the wrong way.

\--- 

He's thinking about mechanical parts and Franky when he lands his first blow, a shallow cut across the cheek, his swords flickering from black to not from a near successful use of haki. A grin barely flits across his face before he's knocked back, Mihawk's face deadly and pale with a trickle of blood on his cheek.

Zoro swears as the rubble collapses under the weight of his body, not even on his feet before he's slammed hard back down into the uneven ground. The remains of what was once a blacksmith's shop digs into his back.

A foot lands on his chest, pinning him down.

"What the hell-" 

"Take this seriously, Roronoa," Mihawk says, his voice as cold as the look in his eyes, "Or be gone."

He chokes out a rough, "I am," before Mihawk hauls him up by the collar of his shirt. He still made contact, despite being distracted.

He blinks through the blood dripping from the cut on his temple, baring his teeth at this man who's seen him in every vulnerable state his body has been through. If he was a weaker man, he'd give in to the embarrassment of being so vulnerable, of the dishonor of his enemy seeing him this way.

A hand rests on the scar, clear across his chest. Those eyes never look away from his as he traces the rough edges of it, that phantom pain even more apparent in front of the man who branded him. His scar makes him think of good food and fish men, makes him think of a wide childish smile and it reminds him just who it is he's fighting for.

Mihawk releases him enough that his toes touch the ground. He murmurs, "I've marked you so even death knows who claimed you. If you wish to become the world's greatest swordsman, I suggest you earn this mark."

Zoro breathes through the rattle in his chest and nods, just needing to get through today.

\--- 

Despite spending over a year in this place, Mihawk is still a mystery. Sure, he can tell just by the flick of his wrist how quickly he's going to knock Zoro on his ass. He learned Mihawk is even less forgiving on Zoro than Zoro is on himself during training. But when it comes down to it, he knows just as much about the legend who sliced Zoro open while floating across the sea in a coffin as he does about the man sipping wine who agreed to train him.

At least that's what he thinks when he walks into what he's sure is the kitchen and finds Mihawk sitting in front of a fireplace, book propped open in one hand. Zoro means to leave, means to find some food and go back to meditating, but Mihawk is staring into the fire with eyes that aren't really seeing.

There's something so familiar about that vacant expression, an expression he's caught on Robin's face countless times before Enies Lobby, how she'd watch them without really seeing what's in front of her. Robin's fond, ghostly smile now when she watches them chases away the past that haunted her. Luffy made sure of that. 

"Roronoa."

He startles out of the thought, rubbing at his shoulder trying to erase the ache that he can't reach just in his chest. "Hawk-Eyes," he greets, closing his eyes and stepping forward like he meant to end up here. 

Mihawk doesn't look up as Zoro lingers by the fireplace like the chill of the castle means something to his body that barely feels it. Mihawk goes back to reading and ignores him. Even when Perona sweeps into the room, looking for some entertainment, Mihawk doesn't move an inch.

\---

He's been at it for hours and it's not until he senses Mihawk approaching that he notices the rain that's soaked him to the bone. He refuses to smile at the litany of a certain skeleton's laugh that follows the thought. 

"Annoying," he mutters to himself, slicking his hair back, the length actually allowing him to do so.

Perona left him hours ago, huffing off like she always does whenever he ignores her.

"Here," Mihawk tosses him a paper, the ink starting to run.

"Huh," he grunts, his captain's wanted poster staring up at him. They've been separated for so long now that Zoro thought the newspaper grew tired of speculating. Today, there's a sighting all the way back to the Red Line, the infamous Straw Hat pillaging a town of what little riches it has. Even Usopp was better at lying than this. "They're getting less original. The one about fighting gigantic man-eating birds seemed more believable at least."

"It's not much longer now."

Zoro tears himself away from the paper, meeting Mihawk's gaze. The two years are up soon whether he's ready or not. He thinks back to the day he found out about Ace, how Luffy went through that whole ordeal without them. His fingers tear into the flimsy paper. At Mihawk's glance down to his clenched grip on the paper, he breathes in and tosses it back to him.

Without a word, he blocks everything out and keeps going, pushing down the excitement of finally being able to explore the New World.

\---

"What are you doing?"

The hand traveling curiously down the line of his stomach pauses. The candles around them flicker like the beat of Zoro's heart and his voice echoes loudly against stone.

"If it's not obvious," the voice murmurs hot against his jaw, "then you are not as observant as I gave you credit for."

A warm palm cups him through his pants and Zoro's whole body jolts, heat rushing through him like when Asura takes hold of him but different. His breath stutters at the touch, feeling too damn vulnerable leaning back on his bed with Mihawk nearly on top of him.

The touch starts to move away, the dip of the bed less severe and Zoro grabs Mihawk's hand before he even knows what's happening. It's the first time he's touched this man outside of a fight, the man who's standing between him and the thing he wants most.

"Just wait a damn minute," Zoro says through clenched teeth. "My head's all messed up."

And he means that. There's this need to fight back and then there's this darker need to impress Mihawk, to show him he's the right man to replace him. Long callused fingers slide his haramaki up, loosening his pants, and he inhales sharply.

"You're trembling," he breathes against Zoro's ear, taunting him.

"Shut your damn mouth," he growls, hips arching up on their own. He gasps when that strong hand cups him, palming at him the way Zoro only does secretly on those few nights when he can't concentrate without relief. "Pervert."

Mihawk huffs out a quiet breath verging on a laugh. The cold tip of his nose brushes across Zoro's cheek, that strength gripping him into hardness. He swears, pawing at that ridiculously open blouse, not sure if he wants him farther or closer.

"Look at this as a reward," Mihawk suggests, dark and deep.

He growls at the words, always one to accept a challenge. He's never had this urge, never fallen victim to flesh, especially when it's so much easier to slice it up. It could be the wine he's had, finally able to drink again after mastering haki, but Zoro wants this. 

"I never would have guessed Hawk-Eyes Mihawk was a perverted old-" his voice breaks off into a rough moan, cursing the steady rhythm that has him aching. There's a part of Zoro that's afraid this is a challenge, a test of his strength of will.

"Watch your tongue," Mihawk whispers, deadly and spiking heat straight through him. He grits his teeth and wonders if he should be worried that the threat is part of the appeal, that these hands could be the ones to end him. A hot mouth latches onto his shoulder. "I don't usually have arrogant young men barge into my home either." 

Zoro shudders at a particularly rough stroke, his head falling back, and if this is a test he's failing. He swallows a moan, barely holding himself together, his hips starting to shift with the rhythm. He's never been desperate enough for a quick slip of pleasure, never allowed himself anything beyond some good sake.

A thumb glides against the tip of his cock, sliding along the slick, and it shakes Zoro to his core, a noise escaping him that he's not proud of.

"Ah," Mihawk says, twisting his hand with stroke after vicious stroke. "This is not a skill you practice."

His knees try to slide wider with each hot pull on his cock, squirming at the pleasure building up. "S-shut up," he pants, his control nearly gone.

Mihawk hums in amusement, his chest pressed tight against Zoro's side, staring down the stretched line of his body. He's falling apart, feeling completely helpless at the hands of this man. His whole body arches as he comes with a curse, Mihawk smiling into the sweat slick skin of his neck.

All it takes is a moment before Zoro flips them, holding Mihawk down with more strength than is necessary. He hopes the way his face is flushed is hidden by the dark of the room, that Mihawk won't see him in yet another vulnerable situation. 

"What will you do, Roron-," Mihawk starts, cut off by Zoro's mouth on his. He tastes like wine and spice, his tongue as sharp as his sword. The kiss is bruising and when Zoro leans back, Mihawk grips the scruff of his neck and reels him back. He leads the kiss, tilting Zoro's mouth against his and it leaves him breathless as Mihawk positions Zoro to straddle his lap. Zoro grinds his teeth at always being told what to do. 

Shoving him flat, Zoro paws at Mihawk's chest and grips the buckle of his pants as he challenges, "I'm better with my mouth."

It's the one night his crew doesn't visit his thoughts. 

\---

A thumb glides across the ridge of his eyebrow, following the healing cut to the curve of his cheek.

"This is the last time we will meet before the end."

Zoro opens an eye at that, wanting to push away Mihawks hand, to petulantly ask why. Instead, he grips Mihawk's wrist, tries not to visibly shiver at the delicate touch to his scarred eyelid. 

He's waited for this moment, where he can find his crew and be at Luffy's side like he's meant to be. He wants to prove himself, to show Mihawk that he's the most powerful threat to his title. Still, there's a small part of him that wants to learn more and learn from the best. 

"Thanks," he says, shifting his feet, "for everything."

Mihawk smiles a cryptic curve of his lips, eyes boring into him and his expression hard to read. His fingers glide down to briefly meet his lips before he finally pulls his hand back. Heat washes through Zoro, that low burst of desire still so new and he lets himself feel it as he throws himself at Mihawk, kissing him deeply.

He can feel Mihawk smiling into it, more amused than interested to start anything. Zoro doesn't care, tries to put everything he feels into that kiss - gratitude, eagerness, fear, desire. Mihawk brought him news of Luffy like a harbinger, sweeping in and out of his life like the ghostly fog that consumes this island. He'll never be able to repay that debt. 

He pulls back from the kiss and stares down the man who is so entwined with his future. Mihawk is the complete opposite of Luffy but somehow meeting his eyes right now is just like staring into the sun, just like his Captain. Zoro smirks widely and laughs, "Don't die before I get the chance to kill you first."


End file.
